She mouthed the answer, “Yeah,” but she may as well have shouted it from the rooftops. I responded, “Thank for the best gift you could ever have given me.” She has not moved her mouth in response to anyone or anything in about a day and a half.

Her eyes have been closed most of the time. One eye has opened on occasion, but with little evidence there was much consciousness behind it. When I came in to be with her for a bit this time, both eyes were open. I wasn’t absolutely sure she actually seeing me until she mouthed her response.

Her fever is stable at the moment, only a degree and a half above normal. It has been at that level all afternoon and evening. We will still use a Tylenol Suppository tonight to try to keep it from rising by morning.

Today was a typically busy Wednesday, in spite of what is going on here. The Spiritual Formation group met on the deck. I realized again just how important that two hours weekly is for helping me keep my perspective and my spiritual focus.

During that time Volunteer Elaine came and read to Mary Ann. Shortly before the end of the group meeting, Bath Aide Zandra came. We figured out that she had been coming to see Mary Ann twice a week for almost eight years. No wonder she has shed some tears. Zandra did a thorough job on Mary Ann’s bed bath, hair washing, as well as changing the bed with Mary Ann in it. It was good that Lisa came in since she is experienced and could lend a hand.

Hospice Social Worker Kristin came by for a while. It was helpful to have her knowledge and experience available as we talked through what is going on here. She confirmed what I already knew, that when death comes, the Hospice Nurse will make the necessary phone calls to get all the basic tasks accomplished so that the family can focus on their notification calls.

Landscaper Sheila came by to work on the garden and waterfall, doing clean up, adding a couple of things needed. As a gift, she put some Petunias in a huge pot on the ground at the edge of the deck.

Marilyn, a member of the Lead Staff at the church from which I retired, stopped by to spend a few minutes with Mary Ann and some time with the rest of us. She shared a reading and prayer with us, providing some words of reassurance about the Lord’s presence with us no matter how stormy our life may be at the moment.

Pastor Mike, who will preach at Mary Ann’s funeral (why doesn’t that get any easier to say), stopped by to spend a few moments with Mary Ann, and share some time with us. We reminisced a while since our history together goes back to 1972. He listened to stories about Mary Ann.

Then friend Jeanne came by to spend a little time with Mary Ann. It was a difficult time for her. Pastor Mike was still there, so we talked together about how hard it is to handle what is going on here.

I have to say, we started out with the refrain that we don’t like this, and as time goes by we are not liking it more and more. That is an awkward way of saying it, but you catch my drift. It is more and more painful to go into the bedroom and look at her pretty face, immobile and helpless — at the very same time it is more and more painful to be outside of the room and not with her.

I am glad to be able to feel that pain. I don’t want it, but it is reassuring evidence that I am still alive and still care and not in denial. It has always struck me that when someone has a paralyzed limb, one way to check whether or not it is healing is to stick a pin in it. If the owner of that limb jumps in pain, the arm or leg is alive — healed.

Those who have been where we are, but for a much longer time, have often commented that after a while, they just can’t feel anything any more. They go numb. Good news brings little joy; bad news brings little pain. They have to insulate themselves from their own feelings. The ups and downs have worn them down.

We are still able to feel the pain. I can assure you it is more than a pin prick. Because we can still feel the pain, we still get to feel the love.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,” click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment. Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing. Comments are appreciated.

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5 Responses to “Do you know how much I love you? “Yeah.””

I too would not trade the pain of loss for it would mean I did not experience the deep and vital love with those now gone from this world. It is one thing to say pain of loss but one of joy to remember that they are not LOST…perhaps we should consider them found! Found in that great Love that is our God!

Thank you for sharing you and MartAnn’s life with so many of us. You will probably never know what this has meant to us! I hope when all this has past you might consider writing a book. God bless you and your family.

Pastor Pete,
What a wonderful testimony to your love for each other! If we didn’t love so much, it wouldn’t hurt so much- the two go together. But you are right, we can be secure about her future. Very soon she will be in the presence of God with no more pain or difficulty. May God keep you and your family close to Him during this time of transition.